


Not Just A Polka Pop Pretty Face

by DiscordMars



Series: The Radio Demon's in The Detail [2]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor Tries (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Canon Asexual Character, Chaotic Neutral Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Character Study, Companion Piece, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), I Love You, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, No Smut, Possessive Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Pre-Slash, Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Smart Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Two Shot, What Was I Thinking?, but - Freeform, somewhat ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25324171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscordMars/pseuds/DiscordMars
Summary: Alastor knew.Of course he did. It was inevitable.What else could come from being under the same roof as the most prominent underling of another overlord?Problem was, Angel wasn't supposed to matter. Alastor wasn't supposed to care.AKAA different perspective on the same events, along with a bit of the aftermath.
Relationships: Alastor & Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: The Radio Demon's in The Detail [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665355
Comments: 6
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The nature of their dynamic is left a little bit more ambiguous in TRDITD, so no need to read this fic if you prefer darker implications in that interpretation. I initially wasn't going to post it at all, but I was so happy to receive the comments I got and decided to leave it up to readers instead. I hope you enjoy!!

Alastor knew.

Of course he did. It was inevitable.

What else could come from being under the same roof as the most prominent underling of another overlord?

But, there was something off about the whole thing. Angel may have disguised his intent under his abundance of lust but outside of the targeted advances toward the radio demon, the adult star had practically withdrawn from everything else. There were moments that the spider seemed happier that Alastor wanted the adult star dead, a vicious melancholy that gripped the eyes of Angel Dust that the spider must have thought no one would notice.

Perhaps he didn’t even notice it himself.

Angel Dust was a different being when focused, more calculated and perhaps deserving of his reincarnation as an infernal arachnid. It sparked a theory the radio demon wanted to put to the test. So the static overlord did all but kill the harlot, watched from the corners, cracks, and crevices as Angel Dust put on his performance, seeing the hope of getting anything out of Alastor slowly wither.

At first, he genuinely enjoyed it. The undertone of pain, the misery of failure after failure. Took to listening in on the few moments when the facade broke, when Angel would scream and cry into the void sure no one would hear. It was like music at first. But it quickly lost its pleasurable tune, became an annoying screech that crawled in Alastor’s ears, mutated into jumbles of stagnant nonsense that reminded the radio demon of all that he detested. At best it bored him, at worst were the moments he would consider putting Angel Dust out of his misery.

But he let Angel’s antics go on, only to have his slight amusement end abruptly with the spider’s sudden isolation. The change was jarring, he almost found himself missing it. Almost. Alastor hadn't expected what he said to have changed so much. Even when the air of agony he grew to resent was gone, he couldn’t tell if he hated the silence more.

To be fair, Charlie was actually worried about the harlot. It wasn’t long before she visibly expressed concern when days passed without hearing about or from the crossdresser. And who better to alleviate the issue than her “trusting” business partner?

The radio demon glanced around the spider’s abode, unimpressed. The air felt stale, the room looked stagnant and unkempt. The only thing that remained lively amongst the clutter was the squealing meat Angel kept as a pet that scurried out of sight at the stag sinner’s appearance. Angel Dust himself looked awful, and Alastor had said as much.

As weak and ragged as he had appeared, that didn’t stop Angel from getting to the heart of the matter, shoving the overlord up against the wall. Alastor didn’t try to stop him at all, it was the first time someone he had thought so beneath him had the gall to push his boundaries with full awareness of the consequence.

This wasn’t an Angel Dust Alastor had seen before, was this what lurked beneath the surface all that time?

That gave the radio demon an idea.

An awful idea.

The radio demon got a wonderful, awful idea.

He would have slapped himself silly, how foolish it hadn’t occurred to him before. But perhaps it was the opportunity they both had been seeking after all. At first, Alastor hadn’t been giving his attention, but now….now Angel had it. Alastor wouldn’t make that mistake again, at that moment he decided it was Angel’s time to shine.

It didn’t take long, but Alastor had always been impatient. He didn’t expect Angel to approach their situation as leisurely as he did, slipping in the more purposeful questions into his typical Angel Dust antics one or two at a time each day. Questions and inferences that were so specific yet open-ended, it made Alastor’s smile a little bit more true each time. The spider paid attention too, never asked the same question twice and careful to not look for too much all at once.

The problem was, Angel wasn't supposed to matter. Alastor wasn’t supposed to care.

Their private game brought to the dark a new hunger that left him craving for more of….whatever he could call this. It was not lusting, nor was it wrathful. It was a desire of a gluttonous nature, that he knew for sure but….beyond that? He didn’t know, he didn’t like that he didn’t know. It was a tune he didn’t understand, but also couldn't get out of his head. A chaotic, seductive song so jarring that shouldn't have worked, and yet he would find himself swaying to without a thought.

The moments he found the most frustrating to understand were the ones that found them alone, still themselves but in tune, harmonic. When those questions turned into stories, when a genuine laugh from Angel made his guts feel a nice sort of strange. The passing of time went from a tedious crawl to an impatient ambush that seemed to always arrive too soon in the form of one interruption or another.

Alastor had known what it was to feel affection, in his former life. He was willing to admit that his love for his mother had to have been genuine, even if it only became an echo of what it once was after his death and descent. Whatever this was, it was similar but….not.

The radio demon didn’t know how to deal with feelings. So he didn’t.

* * *

"Hey Al, why haven't you asked me about what I get outta all this?"

Angel let the joint dangle between his fingers leisurely, the smoke drifted off into the night of Hell’s red hues. It was a condition of their “quality time”, hard liquor and weed were about all the stag sinner could tolerate so, of course, Angel indulged. Standing beside the spider, Alastor raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"What Val offered me to honeypot ya. I figured you would be at least a little curious. Or did you figure out that too?”

Sure, he had thought about it, but it hadn’t held his interest for a while, why Angel would agree to what should have been a suicide mission.

“Perhaps…” Alastor grinned, “But there’s no fun in ruining the mystery of it all! So why would I bother with asking?”

At that Angel Dust shrugged, but a smile slowly crept up on the spider’s face “Who knows, I could just be usin’ ya. Get you to kill Val and his other fuck faced pals or double-cross ya for Val’s spot as an Overlord.”

ha...HaHA!

The thought was laughable, absurd, bizarre, truly the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard since Charlie’s embarrassing spiel to the denizens of hell. The radio demon cackled at the idea for quite a while, joined in with chuckles that sent them both on the floor in hysterics.

“That’s been your best joke yet Angel! You’re getting quite the hang of this funny business”

“Aw shucks Al, you’ll make a gal blush with that kinda sweet talk.” It took his dying laughter for the stag sinner to realize just how close the spider was. It seemed only a second later that Angel seemed to see it too.

Before either thought to pull away, Alastor surprised himself by grabbing the spider by the throat, not quite squeezing but refusing to let the other look away or move.

All else was forgotten. Feeling the harlot’s heart pound against his fingers and the magenta flush of pale cheeks deepen, Alastor found himself conflicted. The feeling was similar to what a child might experience in the presence of something cute; the guttural want to squeeze and crush until the pleading stopped and life was snuffed dueled with something that desired to be gentle, shower with the closest thing to affection and care someone like the red overlord could feel. But he did neither.

Angel Dust was oddly quiet. Maybe it was the look in the arachnid’s eyes, of acceptance and unflinching fearlessness at either outcome. Or maybe it was how the longer the thought lingered, the more the stag found himself intrigued with what Angel had said that made everything make less sense. But he pulled the spider closer until the fluffy white head was nestled by his own neck, the radio demon’s unending smile whispered gently into the other’s ear.

“You're not planning anything of the sort, Angel. B̴̧̀ŭ̵̻̄t̷̻̝̃̑ ̷̰̓͝I̸̠̔͠’̸͎̅͗d̸̹̓ ̶̠̄̂q̵̲̌̕ŭ̶̗̣͠i̵̳̻̓t̶̨ͅẹ̴̮͊̕ ̵̟͎̈́l̶̯̔i̵͓̚ǩ̴͍̼̈́e̸̺͆ ̵̳̒̚t̸͕͌̇o̷̘̽͋ ̶̘͊̏š̵̮̝ẹ̷̀̍e̷͍̓ ̸̪̹̓y̶̢̮̐̋o̸̞͂ͅṷ̵͍̂ ̵̭̿t̷̙̑̀r̷̝̹̔ỳ̵͇.̴̢̡̒”̴͔̬̌̌

* * *

Red is not a pretty color on Angel Dust.

The pornstar was an amalgamation of pinks, creams, and white of all kinds. An occasional flair for purples and black, but red was quite an ugly color for the arachnid.

There was so much red that the arachnid’s striped suit was practically ruined, fur and fluff matted down to the hot concrete where softness was exposed to the elements. The radio demon did not feel worry, did not feel fear. He refused to call whatever strange sensation he was feeling such a thing. it only got worse the longer he stared down at the younger sinner, who spoke silly thoughts through blood-soaked lips and absurdly tried to comfort Alastor. He should have been able to laugh at that, but not even a smile could find him.

Alastor did not think himself capable of tears, and yet Angel managed to find that in him.

When Angel's body went limp, So did something in Al. But the Radio Demon remained to get things done.

“Weeeell, this is even better than I expected!” 

And a little moth problem that needed fixing had just shown up. How convenient.

“Serves that little bitch right. All that to save your skin and he led me right to you, Radio.” Valentino cackled, “I should have known that stupid cunt would whore himself out the second I gave him leg room. Even to a fuckless freak like you. But that just made it all the easier to kill you both.”

The static screeched as the scarlet sinner slipped further and further into the vile abyss. This **disgusting** , **pathetic** , **insignificant** little spec of **shit** had the **gall** to gloat? After cheating a game fairly played?

That just would not do.

The **thing** before him that hurt Angel so badly did not deserve words, so the Cannibal gave none. Even as it aimed the heaven-blessed weapon at his head, Valentino had lost his attention. The Radio Demon reached into the void and pulled.

**“** Huh? The fuc-” Husk paused at the sight.

Had he been any other lowly demon or sinner he might have been stupid enough to comment on the situation, but the cat minion needed only one look at the situation before Angel was in the feline’s arms.

  
  


_“̷͇̜̱͉͑͜͠ͅD̴̡̢̰̘̰̱̰̘̤̰̘̉͛͌̿̊̌̽̚̕͠on̴̛͉̟̠͍̗̘̞͆͒̈̌̈́̑̚’̵̩͙̞̲̲̯̰͍͑͂̽̊̍͐̽̾t̴̜͈̺͉̪͌̎͂̐̓̑̂̇͑̎̉͝.̸̩̓̀͊̑ ̷̜̮̼̻̫͕̜͓̏̏̓̓̀̃͑̍͋̀́̽͜Ğ̴̛̥̙̭̳͚͂̇̆̑̽̊͗et̵̤͕̺͠ ̷̨͚̭̂͂̐̌̃̾̉̓͘͝h̸͚̞̼͘im̶̛̥̮̦̪͗̾̍ ̴̨̘͓̰̏̓̏̀̇͝͝ͅt̷̜̪͈̫̗̝̜͎͚͐̾̏̂́͐̈́̂͒͘͘͜o ̴̢̡̛̦̗͈̭̩̻̣̩̔̉̀͑͛̎̾̊͂̕͝ͅC̶͙͚̩̝̲̤̝̲̫̺̪͇̈́̈́͂h̶̡̬̠̱̙̲̖̞̮͑͗̎̂̉̽̏͊̿͋͋͝ar̵͚̐̏̏̌̈́l̵̢̢̬̟̬̭̖͙̘͋ie.̴̪̫͙͉̻̲̥̤̺̩͓”̶̨̨̨̙̙̗̝̯͖̏͝_

  
  


Just as he appeared Husk was gone again with Angel in tow. At the moment, Husk was the only one that would get the job done in time. The only one who feared the consequence enough to avoid failure at all costs.

  
  
  


Well, that was a thought he did not like very much. ̴̱̼̦͚͒̂͗̑̆͛̚̕Ņ̶̛̼̖͖̬̳̝̣̹̍́̈́̄̐̌̾̈́ͅͅö̷̦́̇̄͒̂̈̆̔̂̃͊̍t̷̛̠̗̦̪̦̟̼͆̈́.̶̭̓̌̆͆ ̵̧̧̭̦̘̭̼̦̥̖͈̌̅̈́̆̈́Ą̴̭̞̹̙̿͐̓̍̓̐̏̚t̸̫̭́̇͛͆̃͆͂͒̑̈́̑̉̑ ̸̫̋͛̐̓̾̾̒͂̊͠͠Ą̷̠͙͚̻̣̼̗̆͌̂̽̃͋͐̚͝l̷̝͚̳͆̎̒͋͑̀̽̓̏̇͗̕͝l̶͚̜̱̠͕̱̪̒̾͒̔̒̂͗̌͠.̷̳̙̗̘̘̾̄̽̒͐̾͂̅́͒͛̈͘͠.̵͇̗̂.̶̡̛͉̗̥͔̘̠͖̩͍̋̈́̆̋̏̃̊͒͑͆̔̐͘

* * *

  
  
  


_Turns out, Valentino wasn’t much of an issue after all._

_But then again, Alastor always did go quite overboard when it came to what was his._

_That was the thing._

_Since when had Alastor considered Angel his?_

  
  


_W̷̨̨̧̛͔̣͙̭̳̥̘̝̖͍̻͉̲̝͍̘̥̤̗͕̱̥̯͓̩̝̠̝̿͗̀̒́͗͒̈̆̎͊͋͆͐̔̑̓̎͌̓̾́̆̊̆̏́͂͘̚͜͠͝͝͝ͅh̸̪̝͍̗͈͉̰̐̾͂̔̉̋̌̈́͘e̸̡̨̧̡̨̡̛̥̯̺̙͙̗̘͙̲̖̜̟͖̗̦͇̤̘̩̯̩̪͉̿̔̾̓̏́̓̃̃̓̄͂̈́̇̒̇̑̍̑̑̿̍̾͌̈͆̏̅̆̀̈́̅̈́͘̚͝ͅn̸̨̈͒͊̎̍̄̂̾̒̊̔͠?̴̺͔̱̻̙͉͍̼͉͉̫͕̰̰͇̪̤̦̉̐̈́̈́̒͋̄̑̑͒͐͗̌̾̇̆̍͑̈́͊͑͜_

_Did it matter?_

  
  
  


_N̶̻̘͊̽o̸̝͕̲͇̼̾́͠,̵̦͇̣̂͊ ̴̱̥͑̔͒̇h̸̢̭̰͌̓̽ḛ̷̯̭̏̓̔͌̒ͅ ̷̘̕i̷̝̪͛s̷̝̗̒ ̵̛͕͎̅̉ḑ̸̮̣̙̍̀͊͒̅͊͝y̶͈̺̗̭͎̾̈́̈́̾͋̽i̴̧̛̹̱̝͍̻͜ņ̵̰͉̱̰̄̌̄̽̈́̈́ġ̸̛͔͔̖̫͓̻̭̈̕._

_That was what mattered._

_W̴͚̊h̸̩̃e̷̻̚n̴̪͆ ̵͖̓h̶̭͊a̵͍͊d̷̦͐ ̸̫̾i̵ͅt̷̻̄ ̵̯̄ṃ̵̆a̵̱͂t̷͔̂t̵̨̛e̴͎̓r̸͕̔e̴̦͂d̷̤͛ ̶̥̐ș̷̓o̶͕̽ ̴͇̏m̸̹̄u̶̠c̸̦̑ḫ̶̍?̷̛͚ ̷̲̔A̴͓̐l̸͓̍ą̷͂s̷̲̈́ṭ̸͗o̵̮͒r̶̬̀ ̵̅͜d̷̞͐o̸̱͆e̸̘̾s̶͍n̶̪͆'̶̙̊t̴̟ ̷̫̈́u̸̧̒n̸̪̐ḓ̵͑e̷̲͂r̵̠̉s̷̖̕ẗ̸̲́ã̷̹ń̴͓d̸̟̕?̸̟̽_

_Maybe Alastor was never meant to understand._

_Was that it?_

_Was Alastor not meant to think about it? Why someone Alastor found so irritating made him content? Entertained him? Made him so manically happy, even?_

_Huh._

_Alastor hadn’t thought about it that way._

_B̴̫̏u̵̞̔t̷͇͗ ̴̥͒ì̴̹t̶̬̓ ̸̬m̷͇̓ī̵̟g̷͚̓h̵̡̆t̸̞̑ ̷͉̈́b̶̼̉e̶͚̿ ̷̳̉õ̷̞v̸̝̌e̵̼ṙ̸̡ ̷̪͗n̴̤̐ŏ̷̳w̸̡̄?̴̯̌_

  
  


_No._

_Angel would be fine._

_Or else Hell would not be._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation is had, and consequences may come...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I did a good thing here and I hope you guys agree. Thank you for the comments and support :) I'm never sure how to respond to them but I read each and every one. It warms my heart to hear back from people.
> 
> Warning in End Note!

Hell had its own idea of what the Radio Demon was.

To its denizens, he was a monster of mystery. Untamable. Unmatched.

The desperate souls that dared to strike a deal would be sure to never misspeak the conditions of their contract or fail to hold their part of the bargain, for the consequential carnage was truly a fate much worse than being ripped from existence.

He liked it that way. Though he would never admit it to anyone he took pride in the reputation he had amassed from the weaker and weary, just as he enjoyed his legacy in human life.

Yes, The Radio Demon was considered many things.

But Alastor hated the moments where he was forced to consider himself human.

**Weak.**

To him they meant the same thing.

When the power of the monster, his true self granted to him in death, fell back in slumber to the red clad deer man that more resembled him in life, the worst of it would follow.

He resented the fatigue that formed under his eyes, sunk into his yellowed bones and paled blackened flesh. The exhaustion that fell onto his body in waves was barely matched by the need to devour much worse than usual. For a demon, draining his power felt awfully human.

So of course Angel noticed it.

The spider hated being carried, the radio demon noticed. It only happened once or twice before, but when it did Angel did the most distasteful of his flirting.

But this once, the deer would not push for such a thing, though it would have probably been better for both of them. Instead he would keep both of their minds off of their current states of being.

“You still have questions.” There was no point in walking around whatever Angel seemed to have on his mind.

“I...don't really know where to start. What to ask.” Angel admitted

To be honest, things had gone blurry at some point. But Alastor was sure of two things:

  1. An Overlord was very dead.
  2. Moth has quite an unfortunate flavor. Not appealing to the taste buds at all.



It was a shame he hadn’t been in the mindset to do a broadcast, it would have been a lovely show.

Oh well, maybe next time.

“Ya shouldn’t ‘ave come lookin’ for me, Smiles.”Angel was back in bed, as he should have been. Such a silly spider, to only consider the red sinners' fate while in still so hurt. Alastor had sent Nifty off on a very important task, but he had the suspicion that the chair set next to the bed was intentionally left in the otherwise immaculate room.

“Nonsense, I didn’t need to look for you at all. My eyes and ears are everywhere, you know.”

“You’ve got no idea what you’ve just started, do ya Smiles?”

“No! Isn't that quite spectacular, darling? I absolutely cannot wait to see what happens next!”

“...” Angel Dust could only stare for a moment, before his sudden laugh startled them both. From what the red clad cannibal could tell, it was very much a laugh of one in a state of surprise and shock. So many thoughts seemed to cloud the spider, even as the laughing trailed off into sobs.

“Fuck, you’re a nutcase Al,” the arachnid sniffed out a weak chuckle, “I want to smack ya for bein’ that stupid. But... I couldn’t thank you more. I can’t believe he’s dead. Double dead, and ya ripped him to shit. For me? Al, Fuck.”

“No thank you, but I can appreciate the sentiment.” The joke seemed to work, Angel calmed down some more.

"Believe me, if I hadn't just taken a celestial slug to the gut, I'd be up for whatever you're willin’ ta give, but it's okay if that isn't an option too. I like ya, Smiles. Its kinda nice, knowin’ that you’re not interested in that way.

The Overlord’s smile softened just the tiniest bit at its corners. He didn't realize **that** part of things weighed so much on both of them. The irony was not lost on either. Alastor, one of the most powerful overlords in Hell and the one person who definitely wasn't looking for anything to do with sex, with Angel Dust, only known for giving a good time bending 500 ways from Sunday and then some to whoever had the cash for it.

Angel must have taken his silence to mean something else.

“Look, I won’t stop that part of me for anyone, not even you. For the first time ever since bein’ stuck down ‘ere, I can be with whoever, whenever. I don’t have to give a fuck about makin’ quota or gettin assaulted and beat to shit and _raped_ for that **fuckhead** to get off knowin’ everybody just sees me as his braindead coked out cashcow fucktoy!-” Angel cut himself off with a strangled screech,

“I'm not givin’ up such a big part of me. I can’t, no more than you want to stop eatin’ people and wrecking their shit up or tellin’ your dad jokes. So if you can't handle that, then tell me now. It’ll be one less pain in the ass of my conscience.”

Silence.

_How does one approach this?_

_How to say what was on his mind?_

_How to try?_

_Maybe this way._

“I find your lewd and crass sense of humor to be quite gross and annoying, as is your impulsivity and how cruel you can be to Charlie when she tries to help you. You’re loud and brash and quite unsanitary for your profession, which you should understand I find absolutely repulsive,”

The stag commended Angel for his face of bravery, they both knew a bit too well that everything he said was just as true as it was hurtful for the spider to hear. The poor creature looked close to tears by the end, but Alastor was far from done with what he had to say.

“And yet, I can't seem to stay away from you. You shouldn’t be so… fascinating to me. As much as I would hate such things elsewhere, it's **you** that makes those qualities bearable. They are part of who you are along with so much more. This ordeal has shown me that I...I quite prefer you being near, alive and in great suffering to the alternative.”

The radio demon decided not to reprimand the spider for pulling him into his multi-armed embrace. It seemed a bit too harsh even for him to do after all that had happened that day, _just this once._

“Heh, that was almost sweet. Did that hurt, gettin’ out? ” The arachnid’s chuckle rumbled against the other's head. The deer let himself sink into the bust of fluff as Angel caressed his ears in a gentle massage.

“Quiet you. I hate this. This moment of weakness will not occur again if I have any say, so enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Suuure, Al” 

The scent of blood, so close and so fresh was almost mouth watering in his relaxed state. Without thought his head lowered to the spider’s stomach, the wound oozing much less under the bandages than before, and licked at a bright blot of scarlet that sparked his heartless heart alight.

That one taste gave new perspective of where their deepest depravities might align, especially when he looked up at hearing Angels soft moan that spoke little of pain and more of the alternative. He considered briefly what would happen if he continued, but found himself resting his head once more against the spider chest instead.

“Perhaps minor compromises can be discussed at some point” He let his eyes close, _only for the moment,_ the radio demon would think to himself.

“ Oh yeah? Sounds good.”

_Maybe this part of being human could be good too._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (* Briefly Referenced rape/noncon )
> 
> I was going to leave it on a cliffhanger but I'd thought I'd be nice this time around. May make a multi chapter sequel if i feel up to it ;) Thank you for reading!


End file.
